


murderous hands

by lucigucci



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Dream Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28001658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci
Summary: a follow-up to my zagnos fic 'i sleep to dream of you', so if some stuff doesn't make sense, you should read that one first.hypnos feels compelled to help achilles out with his boy problems in his own special way, and achilles is struggling with his past more than ever.(i reread the entire iliad to study for this you heathens so don't besmirch my heckin efforts and read the damn fic)
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Hypnos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), the zagnos is in the background though
Comments: 21
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

“... sir? Mr. Achilles, sir? Your Warriorness?”

Achilles jolts awake in his chair. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and he panics for a moment, now that he’s been caught, but his master Hades is neither standing over him nor at his desk. No, in fact, the only person besides the mingling shades lining the hall is…

“Hypnos?” Achilles rubs his eyes and blinks the weariness from them. He’s been so tired as of late. It might have something to do with his protege thrusting himself again and again into danger in his attempts to escape the underworld, but he’ll never admit it. 

“It’s me, Hypnos!” Hypnos exclaims with a cheery grin from his kneeling position by Achilles feet. He must have been poking him until he woke up because his finger is outstretched next to Achilles’ shin.

“It is you, Hypnos,” Achilles agrees. “Forgive me for falling asleep at my post. It was not my intention, I swear it, but I sat down and I… well. I would very much appreciate it if you did not inform Master Hades of this transgression.”

Hypnos gives him a mock-salute. “Sure thing, Your Murderousness.”

Achilles tries to smile at the joke, but his hands tense in his lap all the same. “What news, Hypnos? I thought you would be the last person in the world to disturb a man from rest.”

“Oh, well, yeah. It kinda goes against my code, or whatever, huh?” Hypnos flops down into a more comfortable seated position on the ground and stares up at Achilles. He has a strange mischievous look in his golden eyes that’s usually only reserved for people about to fall prey to one of his tricks. “See, I was just browsing your dreams and this last one caught my attention.”

“Browsing my dreams?”

Hypnos waves it off with a spindly unconcerned hand. “Don’t get so defensive. I do it to everybody, it’s part of my job.”

“Ah… I suppose it would be.” When Hypnos doesn’t reply, still wearing that same smirk on his face, Achilles tries to think back to what he was dreaming about a few minutes ago for a clue. Like most dreams, it’s only bits and pieces, and the better he tries to recall them, the more they slip through his fingers like sand. There’s a tent… and a bowl of olives… and a campfire… and-- and--

His face falls. Now that he’s captured it, the feeling of gentle hands stroking through his hair and cracked lips caressing his skin won’t leave. Hypnos, triumphant, smirks even wider. “That’s new stuff, eh?” he says. “You haven’t had a dream like that in years. Not since you first came here, and your dreams would only shut up about the guy when you were awake.”

Achilles turns his face away from Hypnos with a frown. “Dreams may concern you, but my waking thoughts do not. Leave me be.”

“Don’t be like that, Mr. Achilles sir! I wanna help you like you helped me!”

Achilles raises his proud eyebrows. “I… helped you? When did I do that?”

Hypnos’ shoulders slump and a dreamy glaze crosses his eyes. “Come on, you remember! With Zag! You told me that he cares about me! Now we’re together and everything is perfect!”

“Ohh. So I did.” (This doesn’t seem like it helped much to Achilles, considering that from what Zagreus told him Aphrodite did most of the work, but he doesn’t say this out loud). “Then let me get this right, lad… because I helped you, you want to help me?”

“Yeah!”

“And what are you planning to help me with? I am perfectly content here. I can’t think of a single thing I might need.”

Hypnos is pulled back to reality. He squints up at Achilles. “Are you _sure_ , sir?”

“Yes.”

“ _Super_ sure?”

“Super sure, yes.”

“But like, are you really _really_ \--”

“Hypnos,” Achilles snaps.

Hypnos throws his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Don’t act like I don’t know what’s going on! Ever since Zag met Patroclus out in Elysium, you’ve been--”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” the soldier hisses, lunging out of his seat and prompting Hypnos to yelp and scramble backward.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-- please don’t--” Hypnos raises his arms over his face to shield himself, and Achilles’ heart softens at once. He bends down to rest a hand on one of Hypnos’ forearms. 

“No, I’m sorry. My heart… it still hurts to hear of him, but I should not have lashed out at you.” Achilles guides Hypnos’ arm away from his face. The god’s golden eyes are still wide in fear but he relaxes a bit after Achilles rubs a few comforting circles on his shoulder. “I know your intentions are pure, Hypnos. Zagreus trusts you, and so I must trust you in turn.”

Hypnos shifts around a little on the ground, blushing. “Thanks, sir. Uh, back atcha.”

“Now, what is all this about?”

At this, Hypnos brightens up. He pats the ground next to him so Achilles can join him, which he does, more out of courtesy than comfort. “I remember when you arrived, you know. You were so angry at Hades for signing you on! I’ve never seen anybody chuck so many vases at him at a time before!”

Achilles chuckles. “He was furious. He should have cast me into Tartarus to be tortured for eternity.”

“He wouldn’t have. You’re too famous.”

“Oh, I’m a washed-up has-been. I haven’t faced an opponent in many years and I doubt I ever will again. During my time on earth, I caused enough bloodshed for multiple lifetimes.”

Hypnos nudges him in the side. “Cheer up! At least you got some fans out of it!”

This is technically true. Both living and dead, Achilles is somehow always surrounded by admirers. It used to be one of the most amusing parts of his job, but now, it feels like a case of mistaken identity. He tries to compromise by replying, “I only care about a select few of my fans.”

“Like Patr-- like, uh, him?”

A painful spike stabs through Achilles’ heart and lingers there. “Like... him. Yes, like him.”

Hypnos pauses, perhaps gauging the potential effects his words might have on his very skinny and very easy-to-strangle neck, and then his question spills out like a tidal wave. “Is that how you met him? Did he come up to you and-- ooh, I know, I know! He joined the army because of you and he fought off a hundred bad guys with big swords to get you to notice him!”

Achilles is surprised at himself when he lets out a hearty laugh. “Haha! No, but that would make for a very good story indeed! It sounds like something he would say!”

“Was it some kind of a coincidence? Like, you were walking down the street one day and your eyes met and _boom_?”

“We grew up together, actually. My father took him into our house when he was just a boy and had nowhere else to go. We--” Achilles cuts himself off. This is the most he’s spoken about _him_ since… he can’t recall. He folds his hands and finishes, “it wasn’t as exciting as you might think.”

“O-oh. Okay.” A tense silence stifles the air between the two until Hypnos breaks it with a, “that’s what I wanted to help you with.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Hypnos fiddles with one of his bracelets to keep from meeting Achilles’ eyes. “Zag is worried about you, but you know how he is. He doesn’t wanna make you upset. Me, though? I don’t care. I’ll try for him. He’s got enough to worry about. I want to help you see Pa-- see your special guy again and make things right.”

Achilles groans and runs a hand through his hair. “Hypnos, it’s more complicated than--”

“You’re making it complicated! Zag says he wants to see you, and you want to see him too, so why don’t you?”

A sigh with the weight of the world escapes from Achilles’ chest. “Even if I do want to, I… I can’t because… Master Hades forbids me from leaving.”

Hypnos snatches one of Achilles’ hands without warning, grin back on his face. “Well, he forbids me too, but I go all the time! You know that!”

“Not all of us can transform into nimble little swallows and fly away, lad, no matter how we wish we could.”

He isn’t sure how Hypnos hasn’t realized this before, but then again, Hypnos has never been very astute. The god of sleep sits deep in thought with both his hands around Achilles’ scarred palm. He’s more serious than Achilles has ever seen him before so he doesn’t dare disturb him. All at once, Hypnos starts like he’s been struck with lightning. “I have an idea!” he exclaims.

Achilles smiles like an indulgent father. “What might that be, lad?”

“A really cool lady taught me that dreams have a lot more power than you think they might, if you catch my drift. I’ll tell Zag to work on his dad for you and in the meantime I’ll hype you up for your big reunion! It’ll be so much fun! I’ve been practicing my lucid dreams, you know, and they’re getting really good!”

 _… what is that supposed to mean?_ Achilles is lost for words. This is some kind of magical Chthonic nonsense that he doesn’t understand. But Hypnos looks so ecstatic, he can’t just deny him... at last, he clears his throat and replies, “that’s a… wonderful idea, Hypnos. Yes, very good.”

“Yeah? So you’re okay with it?”

Not knowing what the hell he’s getting into, Achilles pats the back of Hypnos’ hands. “Yes, Hypnos. Do whatever it is you’d like to do.”

Hypnos whoops and jumps up to his feet as though he isn’t the personification of laziness. “Thanks, Mr. Achilles! You aren’t gonna regret this, I swear!”

As he trots off, humming to himself, and Achilles rises from the floor to continue his nap in peace, the soldier can’t help but wonder if he really is going to regret this.


	2. Chapter 2

_Something is off about Achilles tonight. He won’t stop hovering over Patroclus’ shoulder no matter how hard he tries to concentrate on his cooking. (For how much Achilles complains about him, Patroclus has no idea why he’s the greatest Achaean warrior’s personal maid). Tonight, however, is a new level of nagging. Achilles watches Patroclus preparing a rack of venison with an inscrutable expression from his couch. It’s taking all of his self-control to keep from turning back to Achilles and demanding what he wants. He has tied his hair back over his shoulders, and without his armor, his collarbone feels a bit exposed._

_“You’re not doing it right,” Achilles remarks coolly._

_Patroclus freezes, one hand already drawing away from the salt bowl. As if Achilles knows a damn thing about cooking. This war has made him pompous and nearly intolerable. “Oh,” Patroclus answers. He starts back for the bowl but Achilles is already up from his seat and approaching him._

_“I’ll show you how I like it. No, don’t move, here.” Patroclus’ heart skips a beat as Achilles comes up behind him and leans around him for the spices. Hot breath tickles the back of his neck, shooting nerves down his back. Achilles’ fist closes around a grinder. “You forgot the pepper, Pat.”_

_“I-- I can do it--”_

_“I’ll show you how to grind. Here.” Achilles presses the pepper mill into his friend’s hand and guides his movements. This is either exceptionally humiliating or exceptionally arousing, with Achilles’ body pressed to his, and his strong hands pressing to his, and oh no he has a boner this is bad._

_Patroclus is the one to stop, with a stammer of, “er, that’s more than enough, sir-- you’ll be sneezing if we add more.”_

_“Mm.” Achilles releases him and returns to the couch. He’s still got that icy air about him, but his cheeks are warm and pink, complimenting his long blonde hair._

_There’s nothing to be done about it now. Patroclus tries his best to dust the excess pepper off the meat and save the venison with a honey glaze._

_And Achilles won’t stop looking at him._

_He ducks outside to start roasting the meat over the fire and lets out a sigh of relief as salty ocean air fills his lungs. He should just pluck up his courage and ask what’s wrong; dancing around the question won’t do anybody any good. Besides, they were close friends for so many years, so what reason should Patroclus have to be afraid of him?  
No reason. No reason whatsoever. _

_In fact, now that he’s thinking about it, why has he grown so nervous whenever he’s in Achilles’ presence? It’s been going on for… Gods, it’s been months now, and he’s been able to push it to the back of his mind, since whenever he felt overwhelmed he could go to his own room or tent or wherever the hell the Myrmidons were staying that night and get some peace and quiet. Now that Achilles has taken him on, however, that’s become nearly impossible._

_Achilles misses nothing. His reputation is hard-earned. He was born and built for combat, and thus lives his life on an infinite battlefield where everyone is an enemy. Patroclus is being_ hunted _, and Achilles wants him to know it._

_He leaves the venison on the fire and tries to brush the thought from his head. He’s going to talk to Achilles, yes he is, right now, and there won’t be any stalling or any cowardice or any--_

_“You were gone long,” Achilles notes from his couch, taking a sip of wine from a golden chalice._

_“The-- air. Fresh air. I needed it.”_

_“You’re a fool, Patroclus.”_

_“Er… yes, sir.”_

_Damn it._

_Achilles narrows his eyes at him. Did he say something wrong? Should he just run away now and jump into the ocean to spare himself the pain? He shuffles in place, waiting, and when Achilles doesn’t continue at once, he returns to his food preparation table to start slicing a loaf of bread. Achilles can’t find any faults in how he cuts up bread, right?_

_“Patroclus.”_

_Fuck, this is torturous. Patroclus meets his gaze. “What am I doing wrong, sir?”_

_“Are you talking back to me?”_

_What little bravery Patroclus thought he had is zapped in a second. “N-no, I--”_

_“Listen to me. You and I are closer than any one of my other servants. Therefore, I’m going to offer you a new permanent duty, and you’re allowed to refuse if you want to, out of respect for our history in the house of Peleus.”_

_Oh. That’s… not what he was expecting. Patroclus puts his knife down and approaches Achilles splayed out on his couch, dropping to a knee next to him. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be happy to serve you in any way that I can.”_

_Achilles’ seafoam falcon gaze pierces right through his eyes. And then it wanders, still so intent, hungry, down to his lips, and his throat and the hollow of his neck as though it could burn his tunic off. Patroclus is rooted to the spot in terror. “How long have you looked like this?” Achilles asks. His voice is all of a sudden gentle as a summer breeze._

_“I-- looked like-- what?”_

_“Like this. How long have I been so blind to your beauty?”_

_Patroclus gulps. His mind has gone blank. That instinct to run far away down the beach is trying to pull him away, but he’s already been captured._

_The hand that isn’t holding a chalice hovers over his chest, just an inch away, and it’s trembling. Achilles, the greatest and fiercest warrior in all the country if not the world, is_ trembling _. “I want you,” Achilles rasps._

_“You have me, sir.”_

_“I want you in my bed… I want you to submit to me… and I would give you anything in return, all my riches, all my glory, if for one night I could just…”_

_Patroclus takes his hand and pulls it to his heart. “I accept. This and for every night that you want me. I wouldn’t--”_

_Before he can finish his sentence, his mouth is smothered by a pair of lips and a tongue forcing its way inside, and words and thoughts all but fail him._


	3. Chapter 3

When Achilles wakes up again, he has a hard-on, and he also kind of wants to cry, so all in all, this isn’t a good start to the rest of his day / night. After his talk with Hypnos, he gave up on guarding the administrative post entirely, so at least he’s in the privacy of his own bed. Without the band holding his hair back it spills out over his pillow in waves. He’s somehow tangled himself up in his own sheets to the point where he can’t move his left leg, so he attempts to free himself while thinking over his dream.

As much as he shouldn’t have, and as much as it hurt him… oh, he enjoyed it.

In life, his friends said that he and Patroclus were so close to each other that they were of one mind sometimes. This dream, despite seeing it through his love’s eyes, was his memories too. 

The question now is, how on earth was it so vivid?

Now that he’s regained control of all his limbs from the captivity of his sheets, he sits up in his bed and squints around his room, considering. It’s nothing special-- considering that he’s one of the only shades who are employed in the House on a permanent basis, it’s basically a glorified storage closet. When he first arrived he was livid to be treated like a common servant. Now, though… it’s humble enough to suit him. Cramped and bare-bones and cozy. He stares at the blank wall across from him.

It’s true that earlier today he was thinking about Patroclus, and that must have prompted his visions while he napped at his post, but it was nothing compared to just now. The images were so tangible, and he can still taste the salt of Patroclus’ lips on his own. Nothing could have caused such a realistic except for--

_Shit!_

Achilles bolts out of bed in a frenzy. He forgoes taming his hair, gnarled from his sleep, and even almost forgets to put on his mantle and his sandals in his haste. He storms out of his room past groups of whispering shades and grand mosaics until he reaches the entranceway.

“Hypnos!” he roars.

Hypnos, who, of course, was asleep on his golden couch gifted by Zagreus, yelps and almost drops his clipboard to the floor. He stares wide-eyed up at the hero of Greece. “Ahhh, Mr. Achilles sir, I knew you’d love it! I knew you’d-- you don’t look happy. Why don’t you look happy?”

“Hypnos, what did you do?” Achilles demands.

“Just like I said, Your Bloodthirstine--”

“Enough with the names! I know that this is your doing!”

Hypnos cowers in his seat. “But-- but I-- you said--”

“Hypnos.” Achilles kneels down next to his seat and looks him square in the eyes. “You said something about… ‘hyping me up’ when last we spoke, correct?”

“Ye-eah?”

“And you mentioned giving me lucid dreams in order to achieve this?”

Hypnos nods, smiling.

Sometimes Achilles forgets that the god of sleep really is a bit of an idiot. He continues, patiently, “now, did you say anything about these dreams involving my memories from my life?”

“Oh… huh! I guess I didn’t! Geez, sorry about that, Mr. Achilles, but I figured you knew!”

Achilles sighs. The look on Hypnos’ face is proof enough that he didn’t have any malicious intentions. He pats Hypnos’ knobbly knee and stands back up again. “Understand that I bear you no ill will. I would simply prefer not to relive any painful memories.”

Hypnos straightens up in his seat, confused. “Was that painful? I thought… I tried to pick one you’d like…”

“W-well, it isn’t to say that I didn’t like it…”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” 

By all the Gods above, Achilles is blushing like a virgin. He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s… difficult to explain.”

“I’ve got time.”

Achilles casts a furtive eye around the hall. Hades is sitting at his desk, surly as ever, and he’s about to tell Hypnos this when Hypnos adds, “don’t worry about him, I’ve got ways.”

Don’t worry about _Hades_? Is he insane? Achilles tries to protest but he is pulled by the hand down to the couch to sit beside the god of sleep. Even sitting, Hypnos is rather small compared to him, so he has to stare up into Achilles’ face with wide curious eyes.

Well, if Hypnos is so sure…

Achilles is sure to lower his voice so that only Hypnos can hear and not any eavesdropping shades. “We parted on less-than-favorable terms, he and I,” he explains. “After his death, all I could do was dwell upon the past, and it sent me into a downward spiral that caused needless pain for myself and countless others. These past few years I have pushed the thought of him away… so that I can focus on the present. I want to help Zagreus escape from this awful place. That is my mission now, not pining after a man who surely despises me. It won’t do anybody any good for my head to be filled with visions of him.”

“So it’s for Zag. You’re worried about him.”

“Yes, very much. I fear that he is too much like me sometimes, and that he may go down the same path of revenge that I travelled.”

Hypnos’ face is screwed up in deep thought. Achilles can practically see the wheels turning behind his wide yellow eyes. At last, Hypnos replies, “I see what you mean, but I don’t agree with you.”

Achilles raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Sure, Zag might be a little hotheaded sometimes, but you can’t control that. He knows what he’s doing thanks to you. I mean, you should hear him talk about you!” Hypnos puffs out his chest and lowers his voice in what might be considered an impression of the prince of hell. “Achilles is the bravest man I know! I’d be nothing without him!”

Chuckling, Achilles answers, “I doubt he said that, but thank you, lad.”

Hypnos pouts and relaxes back to his normal size. “My point is that he knows what he’s doing. You’ve done your job. He’s the strongest guy in the Underworld thanks to you. Now you deserve to be happy, and if this Patroclus oh shit sorry if your friend makes you happy then you should be with him!”

Maybe Hypnos has a point. Zagreus is fully grown, after all, and fully raised. Achilles is less of a mentor now and more of a peer. His heart aches to think of it. “I suppose you’re right,” he concedes.

“Zag told me he found your contract in the administrative chambers and he’s working on paying it off with the house contractor, so there’s no need to worry. While he takes care of physical stuff--” Hypnos pats Achilles’ arm-- “I can take care of emotional stuff. You’re still in denial, my man.”

“Please do not call me ‘your man’.”

“Ah-- sorry, Mr. Achilles. I just mean, you know, you’ve forgotten some important things, and I’m here to remind you! That’s why the dreams are my gift to you!”

Forgotten…? Achilles hasn’t forgotten a thing about Patroclus. He can recall every exquisite detail about him without fail, as though they had been together just yesterday, and describe him in loving memory so well that his descriptions could be given to a painter for a portrait without having to look at Patroclus’ face once.

He does not tell Hypnos this.

“Perhaps so,” he says. “Perhaps some things have been lost to time and regret.”

“That’s the spirit! Besides, what’s the harm in dreaming, huh?” Hypnos winks like he’s sharing a secret and playfully punches Achilles’ arm. “Speaking of which, got any requests for next time?”

“Er… requests?”

“Come on. You know.” When Achilles doesn’t answer right away, Hypnos continues, fluttering his eyelashes. “Something extra-special?”

Achilles thinks. “Then, you mean… an important event in our lives?”

“Sex doesn’t gotta be important.”

_Oh._

“Oh,” Achilles mumbles.

“I don’t mind, Achilles sir! And I won’t judge! I’m into some freaky stuff myself, so--”

Achilles chooses this moment to rise from the couch. “I have to return to my post. Give my regards to Zagreus if he returns.”

“Okay, will do, sir! Have fun! I’ll see you soon!”

Trying not to think too hard about that last statement, Achilles marches back to his seat next to the administrative chambers. He must look a mess, fresh out of bed and disheveled. To top it off, he doesn’t feel like he slept more than a few hours, and he still feels drained of all energy. His body’s reflex to wake him from his dream must have woken him up early. Now is one of the many times that he wishes there was a measurement of time in the Underworld, because then he could know exactly when he could go back to his room.

He’ll just go back when Hades inevitably leaves his desk. Yes, that’ll be just fine. No harm in that. He’ll say that he went out to the courtyard to sharpen the infernal arms or something.

And in the meantime, he’ll just… sit down, and… wait. Just wait. No matter if he closes his eyes for a bit. Nobody will notice if it’s just for a few minutes.

He wonders if this is Hypnos’ doing once again but he drifts off before he can seriously consider this possibility.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Come back to bed,” Achilles groans, and waves his arm sluggishly through the air from his position face-down on the bed. “Pat, it’s so early… and I’m cold…”_

_Patroclus is already washing his face in the basin a few feet away. He doesn’t respond._

_“Pat,” Achilles repeats in the most pitiful voice he can muster._

_“I need to go out and supervise the medics.”_

_“Not for a few hours, at least! The sun hasn't even risen yet!”_

_“I want to get a head start today. Yesterday was a bloodbath for our troops. Our best men are working around the clock to help the injured and dying, while we sit idly by in our ship with the luxury of being able to look the other way.”_

_Achilles rolls over onto his back and stares up at him, chuckling. “Because you aren’t a man of medicine! You aren’t employed in their service and therefore have no obligation to them! Why do you antagonize yourself like this?”_

_Patroclus, suddenly, rounds on him, and his smile falters at once. “Just because you insist on this petty feud with the king doesn’t mean I have to go along with you!” he snaps. “Our comrades are dying out there because of your arrogance! The least we can do is help them when they come back with spears sticking out all over!”_

_“Pat, we’ve already gone through this,” Achilles grumbles, but he averts his eyes all the same and shimmies under the blankets for comfort._

_“And that’s why I know that there is no use in trying to change your mind, and why I volunteer at the medics tent,” Patroclus replies icily while he towels his face dry._

_Achilles keeps sneaking glances at him while he dresses. The light through the window is dusty pink and thin, and it casts deep shadows on Patroclus’ muscles, the hollows and ridges and curves of his body. He licks his lips. “I love you,” he says._

_Patroclus’ hard features soften a little. “I love you too, my dear.”_

_“The Achaean army can hold their own, can’t they? The Trojans are strong, but we have trained to face far greater enemies.”_

_Patroclus approaches him and sits on the edge of the bed. At once, Achilles hastens to curl around him, exposing both bare arms to the chilly morning air so he can wrap them around Patroclus’ waist. “That isn’t why I’m frustrated,” Patroclus explains. He reaches down to run a hand through Achilles’ mussed golden hair. “I believe in them just as much as you do… but if you would allow it, I would be at the front of the lines, battling alongside them.”_

_“I can’t risk you getting hurt,” Achilles pipes up. “That’s why I can’t allow it.”_

_“I can hold my own, you know. We trained in the same house. I am not some helpless damsel.”_

_“Yes, but I’m supposed to be your protector. That is my charge in life. If anything happened to you, I would lose my purpose, and-- and--” He cuts himself off, shuddering, and tightens his grip. He doesn’t even want to consider that possibility. Achilles, the great warrior who is supposed to be fearless against even the fiercest foes, clinging to his partner like a lost puppy. If the troops could see him now they’d be roaring with laughter._

_Patroclus smiles and cups his cheek. “I know. I feel the same. But you don’t need to worry so much, really.”_

_He probably sounds like a nagging mother, but even so, Achilles mumbles into Patroclus’ thigh, “something could happen and I wouldn’t be there.”_

_“You could be there if you wanted to. Cease your fighting with the king and come lead our troops to victory. I know that with you there, we could take Troy in a matter of days!”_

_“Pat, it’s not my fault that he won’t so much as apologize to us for slighting us so.”_

_“You’re being petty and you know it.” Patroclus bends at the middle so he can kiss Achilles’ forehead. Before he can straighten back up, Achilles shifts his arms to capture him in a long and deep kiss on the lips. Patroclus makes no effort to get back up. They breathe together into each other's mouths, tasting stale morning breath and the remnants of last night. “Lover, I need to go,” Patroclus mutters._

_Achilles pouts and shakes his head. “You could stay just a little longer, couldn’t you? I’ll make it worth your while.”_

_To prove his point, he shifts one of his hands around to Patroclus’ chest, which is covered only by a nurse’s tunic, and palms his left pectoral. Patroclus grins. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Achilles, the great commander of the Achaean army, playing dirty?”_

_“I’ll play as dirty as I want to if it means I win you as a prize.” He squeezes, delighting in the surprise on Patroclus’ face._

_“Nn-- I really do need to go--”_

_“Are you so sure? If you stayed, I could… give you a massage? Hm? I know it would relax you.” Achilles tilts his head so he can kiss down Patroclus’ stubbly jaw, then his neck, and smiles at the thought of Patroclus shining with oil, more handsome than all the gods put together, beneath his rough hands. His vision is interrupted when his arms are carefully pried apart and Patroclus stands up from bed._

_“I’ll see you tonight, you trickster.”_

_“Damn your iron will,” Achilles remarks with a frown, but doesn’t try to recapture him. “And damn your good heart too. It’ll be the death of you one of these days.”_

_Patroclus slips on his sandals by the door. “I could say the same about your insufferable pride.”_

_Achilles burrows back under the covers. It’s colder without Patroclus’ warmth. “Give my regards to old Nestor while you’re there. And stay safe. And be sure to eat well. And--”_

_“Achilles, if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you just join me?”_

_“Bah.” He turns over on the mattress and buries his face in the pillow. He perks up at once when he feels a pair of lips brush his ear, and he tries to turn around in time, but Patroclus is already out the door. Sighing, he lays there, wide awake. Maybe this feud is as foolish as Patroclus says. He does feel a little guilty, as much as he would never admit it aloud, and Patroclus must know it. But if Agamemnon knew it… oh, he’d never hear the end of it._

_And so he stares up at the ceiling of the cabin, waiting for the day to pass, for Patroclus to come back._


	5. Chapter 5

Achilles wakes up to a tapping on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, and his heart lifts. “Tell that dear heavy-lidded idiot of yours to stop putting me to sleep during my work hours,” he mumbles.

Zagreus smirks. Despite coming back from yet another death, he looks chipper as ever, mismatched eyes glinting in the light of the hall of Hades. “Ah, I can’t really control him, but I’ll do what I can. I take it you’re feeling well-rested, sir?”

“Indeed I am, lad.” Achilles raises his arms over his head and stretches, yawning, before continuing. “Ahh… mm. This is quite the little scheme you have concocted, you know. I would say it is cunning but I would rather not give Hypnos the credit. Ooh, my back…”

Zagreus glances past Achilles at the administrative chamber. “Did he tell you…?” he begins.

“Tell me that you plan to nullify my binding contract to your father? That he did.”

“Well, not nullify it, more like… alter it. Make a few tweaks. Father can’t be too upset with that.” Speaking of which, Hades is no longer at his desk, which Achilles finds odd. He’s been spending more and more time away from his post. Achilles is about to comment on this when Zagreus adds, “Achilles, I made it out this time.”

Achilles’ face breaks into the widest grin he’s made in years. “That is wonderful news! I knew you would! But--” his face falls again-- “why on earth are you back here? You should be up there on the surface, with your mother! Surely you didn’t return home on purpose?”

Zagreus grimaces and fiddles with one of the skulls on his shoulder. “Er… I suppose the mortal world isn’t made for someone like me… Hypnos said that I died from natural causes, whatever that means.”

Natural causes, killing a god. Imagine that. Achilles tries not to laugh, and instead stands up from his seat so he can give his student a hug. “I’m so sorry, lad. You must feel terrible. Were you at least able to see her?”

“I was-- I spoke to her for a bit. And I’m going back, no matter how many tries it takes, until all my questions are answered.”

“That’s the spirit!” Achilles pats him on the back and breaks away with a fond smile. “I’m terribly proud of you, Zagreus. Your iron will and your good heart will lead you to your salvation one day.”

Zagreus blushes, fumbling with his reply. “I-- well, it’s all thanks to you, of course, sir! Without you, I--”

“Oh, enough about me. All I did was order you to do some push-ups and give you a sword to swing around.”

“That reminds me… on my way, I saw Patroclus again.”

Achilles’ heart skips a beat. He sits back down so Zagreus won’t see the tremor that rattles his whole body. “Did you now,” he mutters.

Zagreus nods and smiles again. “We spoke of you, sir, and of your contract with my father.”

He hesitates to ask, though the question is singeing a hole in his tongue, knowing that whatever the answer is his heart won’t be able to take it. Achilles swallows his nerves and asks, “what did he say?”

“He’s excited! He says that all he’s wanted ever since he came to Elysium is to see you again!”

Achilles practically beams at him. “Is-- is that so? Really? He said that?”

“Would I lie to you, sir? I’ll swear on whatever you choose that I’m telling the truth. He told me that he hasn’t drank from the river Lethe like the other shades because he never wanted to forget you, no matter how badly the memories hurt. He loves you, Achilles.”

 _Loves you. He loves you._ After everything, he doesn’t only forgive Achilles, he… loves him. Achilles’ head is swimming in a blinding pool of emotions, because Patroclus is wrong, and Achilles doesn’t deserve it, but at the same time, how long has Achilles pined after him, and hoped he would do the same?

Zagreus is leaning over him, anxious, trying to meet his eyes. It takes an effort to refocus and come back to reality. “Ah-- forgive me,” Achilles replies weakly. “I-- I’m afraid I--”

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to cause you any pain!”

“Oh, no, lad, no, listen to me…” Achilles sits up and takes Zagreus’ hand in his own. “Yes, it hurts, but… it is my own fault that it hurts. I pushed all thoughts of him away for so long, and now this… reliving our memories, and hearing that he is alone in Elysium away from our brothers, because of me… that he loves me as I love him… it’s so much to bear, too much to put on your shoulders. You should not have to--”

“Achilles,” Zagreus cuts in with a frown, “you aren’t just my friend, you’re my teacher, and I owe everything I am to you. Of course I’ll help you with anything you need.”

Achilles sighs, but smiles. “I see you will not be dissuaded.”

“I know it must be difficult. I can’t imagine how you must feel. Just let me take care of this for you, like you took care of me. Okay?” Zagreus pats Achilles’ hand and pulls away. “Sit back and relax. You deserve it. Trust me, you’ll be able to see him again before you know it. I’ll go give him your regards.”

“Ah-- Zagreus, I--”

“And sweet dreams!” With a cheeky wink, Zagreus trots back down the hall. His footsteps leave little scorch marks on the carpet.

Achilles feels like he is being tugged along at the end of a rope, bumping on every rock and hitch, and yet he enjoys the ride nonetheless. He settles back into his chair now that he knows sleep will lay claim to him the moment his eyes close. This time, he welcomes it.


End file.
